


you still cry out for her

by polarizedprincess



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Headcanon, american horror story apocalypse - Freeform, foxxay - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 15:16:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16065821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polarizedprincess/pseuds/polarizedprincess
Summary: in a world of death and bloodshed and destruction, misty and cordelia find their way back to each other.





	you still cry out for her

**Author's Note:**

> i got tired of waiting for a foxxay reunion on s8 so i impulsively wrote one to fill the void until we get a real reunion so yeah here we go

Zombies are surprisingly powerful creatures. During the coven’s first run-in with zombies, Cordelia had been in her room, blind and terrorised by the Axe-man. Zoe had held them off, with mostly no difficulty. They had been a one-off, sent by Marie Laveau. Therefore, of all things she thought would potentially harm the coven, zombies were not high on the list.  
The Antichrist has summoned his own army of the dead, to quicken the ending of the world. Most of the population has died anyway, either due to radiation or starvation or murdered for their possessions.  
Many of Cordelia’s girls have died too. These weren’t deaths she could’ve prevented, but she blames herself anyway. Years ago, the woman she loved had died in her arms, and there was nothing she could do about it. And so Cordelia isn’t going to let any other person she cares about die.  
She casts a spell on the bunker containing her remaining charges, keeping them safe. Madison, to her displeasure, was left behind to guard the young witches, while Zoe, Cordelia, and Myrtle went out to kill the zombies.  
After Myrtle died, Cordelia had cast a preserving spell on her body, just in case. And now that the apocalypse is here, she figures Myrtle would want to see it.  
The three powerful witches head into battle against the army of the dead. The Antichrist stands on a platform behind his creatures, long hair flowing in the wind. He lifts a hand, and the zombies charge.  
These zombies aren’t undead in the traditional sense. Their bites won’t turn living humans into zombies, like in the movies. These are simply reanimated corpses, with no thoughts or motives other than destruction.  
The witches split up. Everything is well at first. They hold off the zombies without much effort. After all, they’re just vapid cannibals, even if they’re undead.  
Cordelia can’t see what her fellow witches are doing, but she sees fire in the distance, and figures that’s Myrtle. Personally, she favours telekinesis, using her magic to sweep the zombies into the ground, breaking their bodies  
And then she begins to tire. All of a sudden, Cordelia has one too many close calls, too many nicks and scratches on her arms. But she is the Supreme, and she is holding her own.  
The Antichrist disappears, and a pale, hooded person walks onto the platform instead. It is impossible to tell if the person is a man or a woman. The hooded person lifts a hand, and the zombies are somehow reinvigorated, rushing towards the witches with renewed strength.  
It is then that the Supreme begins to fall. Cordelia cries out in pain as a zombie sinks its teeth into her shoulder, and blasts it off, but another is already there to take its place. Soon, Cordelia is buried in a sea of zombies, each eager to take a bite of the flesh of the most powerful witch alive.  
As she falls, Cordelia looks into the face of the pale, hooded person, and she recognises their face. Those cheekbones, that sharp nose. Those blue eyes, the colour of the ocean, reflecting the grey light of the dying sun. She’d know those eyes anywhere.  
“Misty!” Cordelia screams, stretching her hand towards her.  
She sees Misty turn to her, and her face hardens. Misty slashes her hand to the right, her palm splayed. The zombies immediately blast off Cordelia, dead in an instant. Cordelia is almost amazed by her unexpected display of power.  
“Misty!” Cordelia repeats, stumbling towards her in a haze of pain. Misty says nothing, her face stony as a mask.  
“Misty, thank God you’re back, I never thought I’d see you again-“  
In an instant, Misty steps off the platform, transmutating right in front of Cordelia.  
“Shut up, Miss Cordelia,” Misty says quietly. There is not a trace of emotion in her voice. Cordelia blinks in surprised silence. Misty tilts her head to the side, taking in Cordelia’s wounds, her blue eyes cold as ice.  
“How are you here?” Cordelia asks, reaching out to touch her. “I thought you were stuck in hell forever-“  
“Yeah, you thought wrong,” Misty snaps, stepping out of reach. “But you wouldn’t know, would you? You didn’t even care enough to try to bring me back,” she snarls.  
“Misty, that’s not true, I-“  
“I was down there for so long that eventually it didn’t even matter to me anymore. The frog. I killed it, but I couldn’t leave. Do you know how time works in hell?” Misty continues, burning with cold anger.  
Cordelia takes a moment to catch her breath. She doesn’t recognise this person; a stranger who wears Misty’s face. She has all of Misty’s features, but none of the light that made her who she was.  
“How are you here?” Cordelia whispers.  
“He brought me back,” Misty says.  
Cordelia already knows who she means. “The Antichrist.”  
“Yeah. Michael.” The tiniest flicker of a smile dances on Misty’s lips for a split second. ”He saved me.”  
Cordelia can hear the bitter resentment in her voice, and tries to reach out for her again, and again Misty sidesteps her.  
“Misty, I tried to bring you back. I tried for years-“  
“He told me you’d say that.” Misty’s eyes narrow. “He said you’d try to lie to me. To pretend you care about me.”  
“I do care about you, Misty,” Cordelia pleads.  
“Shut up!” Misty yells. She closes her fist, and cracks spiral across the earth. Misty has always been powerful, but it really sinks into Cordelia how strong she is, when her magic isn’t being used for healing.  
Come to think of it, she’d blasted an entire horde of zombies aside like they were nothing, forcefully ripping their imitation of life from them without a second thought. The power of resurgence has always fascinated Cordelia. After Misty died, she’d read up more on it, and learned that involved drawing a soul back to its body. She supposes there’s no reason it couldn’t be done in the reverse.  
She is heartbroken to find that she is a little afraid of Misty.  
“You didn’t care enough to save me. You brought Myrtle back, you even found Madison, but you left me in hell for good,” Misty growls.  
“That’s not true, Misty. I loved you,” Cordelia says, and she swears she can see something flicker across Misty’s cold blue eyes, something that tells her the Misty she loved isn’t gone.  
“Stop lying to me!” Misty shouts. Her pale face is burning.  
“I know you’re in there somewhere, Misty. I know you remember how much I cared about you,” Cordelia says.  
“You’ve been lying to me from the start. You told me I was the Supreme. And then you left me in hell, all by myself,” Misty retorts.  
“I’ve spent the last few years trying to find you, Misty. I tried everything-“  
In a flash, Misty’s fingers are around her throat, crushing her windpipe. Her blue eyes are burning like cold fire. Misty’s skin is icy to the touch.  
“You let me die,” she says viciously.  
“Misty, please,” Cordelia whispers hoarsely, scrabbling against her fingers. “I know you’re in there. I know you want to believe me.”  
“And how do you know that?” Misty questions.  
A small, crooked smile dangles on Cordelia’s lips. “You still call me Miss Cordelia,” she says simply.  
Misty blinks, as though realising it for the first time herself. Her fingers loosen, and Cordelia falls to her knees, gasping for breath. She stands up and steadies herself, looking Misty in the eye.  
“Do you remember when we first met? You took my hand, and I read your mind?” Cordelia asks.  
Misty looks like she’s in shock. She doesn’t respond. Cordelia holds out her hand.  
“Take my hand. Read my mind.” She looks into Misty’s eyes. “I know you can now. You’ve always been so powerful.” She smiles.  
“It’s a trick, isn’t it?” Misty says, her low voice almost a growl.  
“You’ll have to find out.” Cordelia’s gaze is unwavering.  
Misty stares at her for a while, as though considering just killing her on the spot. But finally, something in her gives, and she slides her hand into Cordelia’s.  
Cordelia can feel Misty reading her. Normally she wouldn’t be able to know what Misty sees when looking in her mind. But second sight is Cordelia’s specialty, as she has a lot of experience with it.  
She knows the other witch can see all the efforts she took to retreive her soul. Cordelia lying in a pentagram as Zoe paints symbols around her in blood; Cordelia travelling to a cave in the middle of nowhere to steal a spellbook from an ancient witch; Cordelia carving symbols into her own flesh with a jagged knife, whispering in Latin. Those were just a few of the many, many attempts Cordelia made to save Misty’s soul.  
She feels Misty’s will shake a little, feels her delve into the memories they had together. Cordelia teaching Misty the spell to make plants grow instantaneously. Misty high-fiving Cordelia, giggling and leaning close together. Cordelia kneeling amongst Misty’s things, trying desperately to find her. Cordelia casting a counter-spell on Misty while she’s in hell, sobbing as her body dissolves into ashes.  
Cordelia, keeping Misty’s things in her closet, vehemently refusing to get rid of them. Cordelia, making sure Misty’s cabin doesn’t fall into ruin. Cordelia, using swamp mud on a regular basis. Cordelia, listening to Misty’s favourite songs before she falls asleep. Cordelia, whispering Misty’s name in her sleep. Cordelia, unable to let Misty go.  
Something about what Misty sees shocks her into dropping Cordelia's hand. Cordelia wonders if the Antichrist - Michael - has been showing her fake memories of her time at Miss Robichaux’s. It wouldn’t surprise Cordelia, given that fake memories can be extraordinarily powerful.  
But so can love. And Cordelia had really loved Misty.  
Misty looks at her, her blue eyes full of fear and confusion.  
“I don’t know what’s real,” she whispers.  
“You do, Misty,” Cordelia tells her gently. She pulls back her sleeve. Beneath the bite marks of the zombies, there are symbols carved into her flesh, symbols that Misty herself saw Cordelia slice into her skin.  
“I’m not lying to you, Misty. I failed to protect you when you died, and I’ve been trying to fix that since. I’m sorry, Misty.” Once more, she reaches out, and when Misty doesn’t shy away, Cordelia takes her hand again.  
Her skin is still cold, unlike the warmth of the woman who’d once turned to ash in her arms. But the light in her eyes as she looks at Cordelia is enough. She can see the ice melting, turning back into the sea.  
“I’m so sorry it took me this long to find you.”  
Misty stares at her for a long, long time. It is difficult to read her now.  
“I’m so tired, Miss Cordelia,” she says finally, her voice breaking.  
“I know, Misty. I know.” Cordelia draws her into a hug, and Misty holds on to her like she is a lifeline. The two of them stand in a field of corpses; the Supreme, ripped at and disheveled, holding the queen of the dead, strands of curly blonde hair escaping the hood of her black robe, enveloped by the grey light of the dying world.  
“Let’s go home, alright?” Cordelia whispers.  
“I thought it was destroyed,” Misty says.  
“We have a bunker somewhere. That’s home, for now,” Cordelia says.  
Misty draws back, flipping back the hood of her robe. Her wild blonde curls tumble down her back, a few falling into her face. Without the black hood shadowing her face, she looks almost like her old self again.  
“I’m still not entirely sure you aren’t lying to me,” Misty tells her.  
Cordelia gets it, she supposes. She’d be iffy too, if she was in Misty’s position. But if the sincerity in her memories still can’t convince her, what possibly could?  
An idea strikes her, and she speaks before she can talk herself out of it.  
“You aren’t sure if my memories are real, right?” Cordelia says. Misty nods.  
“Okay. What about this?” Cordelia steps closer to Misty, tiptoes, and presses her lips to hers, kissing her with all the love she has for her. Cordelia has wanted to kiss her for the longest time, but was always afraid Misty didn’t feel the same way, and in the days following her death, it haunted Cordelia knowing that Misty died without knowing how much she loved her.  
Misty’s lips are cold against Cordelia’s, and she doesn’t move, but it’s alright, because right now Cordelia just needs Misty to know that she’s always loved her, and she always will.  
Cordelia draws back. Misty looks at her, and a small smile twists her lips. She reaches out, and tucks a stray strand of hair behind Cordelia’s ear.  
“Home’s wherever you are, Miss Cordelia,” she says quietly, and Cordelia’s heart leaps.  
“I thought of you a lot, while I was in hell. I was hoping you’d find a way to rescue me,” Misty says.  
“I can’t change the fact that I failed. But I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” It is a promise Cordelia intends to keep.  
“Okay.” Misty smiles, a little tiredly. She waves a hand, and the entire army of zombies, possibly several thousand strong, fall to the ground instantly. Cordelia has never seen power like this before.  
“C’mon. Let’s go find Myrtle and Zoe, then we can go home,” she says.  
Misty nods, and they walk.  
“You know, you don’t have to call me Miss Cordelia. Cordelia’s fine,” Cordelia tells Misty.  
“Without that you wouldn’t have been able to talk me into seeing your memories,” Misty points out.  
“Fair enough,” Cordelia concedes. “I always liked it when you called me that, anyway. You were the only person who really respected me before.”  
“Maybe I’ll call you Delia now,” Misty suggests, and Cordelia chuckles. She always hated it when Fiona called her that, but she’s not opposed to the idea of Misty adopting the nickname.  
“Alright,” Cordelia agrees.  
“Come on then, Delia. We gotta get going, before he comes back.”  
As they walk, Misty reaches out hesitantly, linking her fingers with Cordelia’s. Her hand is cold, but Cordelia’s is warm, and for the first time in years, Misty Day feels safe.  
“Hey, Delia?” Misty says.  
“Hm?”  
“I loved you too, you know.”  
Cordelia is almost afraid to ask this. “Do you still?”  
After a pause, Misty answers. “I think I always will.”  
In a world of death and bloodshed and destruction, Misty and Cordelia find their way home.


End file.
